


I Wanted To Stay

by wrotemyowndeliverance



Series: reddie dumping grounds [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Everybody Lives, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrotemyowndeliverance/pseuds/wrotemyowndeliverance
Summary: The claw had been just inches away from going right through the middle of his torso, leaving instead a large, deep gash across his right side. Richie worked diligently to keep pressure on the wound, all that blood loss had him mostly knocked out for the final ultimo, but when all was said and done, Eddie was alive and well with in the corner, mumbling weakly."Fuck that clown"





	I Wanted To Stay

**Author's Note:**

> T for drinking and curing. This is biggie unbeta'd I just wanted to post something I wrote for once ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

1.

  
The claw had been just _inches_ away from going right through the middle of his torso, leaving instead a large, deep gash across his right side. Richie worked diligently to keep pressure on the wound, all that blood loss had Eddie mostly knocked out for the final ultimo, but when all was said and done, he was alive and well with in the corner, mumbling weakly.

"Fuck that clown"

With Mike and Ben's combined strength _(and Eddie's severe malnutrition)_ the remaining losers all made it out alive.

Richie was the one who called the Uber to the hospital as soon as he got a signal, and, managing to smile through his absolute panic in the back of poor Christian P's ruined sedan, took the ride with him as Eddie continued to mumble delirious about how hard he fucked Mrs.Toizer and how he'd never attend another circus as long as he lived, which he seemed confident would be longer than the 15 minutes to Derry U.

He was taken into the emergency room almost immediately when they saw how bloody and limp he was.

After a grueling 6 hours of stitches and recovery and transfusions, and trial after trial to find a good vein for the IV, an exhausted Richie was happy to report to the row of losers in the waiting room that the incredibly tired, small man in the hospital bed back there was indeed going to make it.

That night, with Richie in a makeshift bed of two chairs and Eddie in his hospital bed beside him, looking just as sickly as he did the day he was born, for the first time in a long time, both of them had a well rested night, with no pills or bourbon to help.

2.

  
It's only a week's time before all the drainage tubes are taken out of him and he's ready to be sent home.

On the first day Eddie woke up scared shitless until he realized Richie and the losers were right outside the door. He barely remembered what happened after they returned to Neibolt the day prior and nobody was eager to tell him anything more than "we won, but you got hurt"

The second day Beverly came to visit, Eddie was much more alert, which meant she and Richie, who had all but moved into room 305b by then, could tease him like usual without feeling nearly as bad about it. When the tension of the room finally faded, it was as if the last twenty seven years hadn't ever happened.

The third day, Bill came with his wife, who was visibly struggling to pretend to enjoy her time in Derry. After a brief fight in the hallway, Bill spent the rest of the afternoon there while his wife took the car and his wallet into town. Richie cracked jokes about it for the rest of the visit and Eddie struggled but didn't laugh, mostly because it hurt his stitches, but he pretended it was for Bill's sake.

The fourth day, Beverly and Ben officially announced their coupledom to Eddie and Richie. Eddie tried not to notice the envy under Richie's tired smiles and congratulations. Four days together since they killed it and neither of them talked about the closet, about Eddie's legs, about any of it. The wedding band on his bedside table weighed a ton on both of them as Bev spoke of Ben like they were already together. Mike stopped by shortly after they left, bearing gluten free, soy free, organic stew for Eddie. He'd called every day since the first night, but was much too busy clearing his apartment and office of all things related to 'it' to make his way to the hospital until then. Eddie was so happy to see him, he didn't even care that he used too much pepper.

The fifth day he was well enough to start to walk around the hospital. He winced all the while and would've left a bruise in Richie's arm from how he clung to him if he'd had all his strength. Despite how difficult it was and how much it hurt Richie to see him in pain, any excuse for such closeness was a welcome one.

The sixth day was much like the fifth, only sadder. When he returned from his lap, this time all the way to the radiology wing and back, it was the first time his room been filled with the club since the first night. Now that they were all sure he was fine, they were returning to their old lives and creating new ones. That night Myra called and for the first time, Eddie wanted to pick up. After getting read the riot act by her, he could almost feel everyone's flights take off, like little parts of himself were flying away too, but Richie was still right there, snoring that chair in the corner.

The seventh day, 2 hours before he was set for discharge, Richie came clean about the fact that their reservations at the inn had run their course and all of their things were in the back of his car, which had sent Eddie back to normal in the worst way possible.

"Richie, what the hell?"

Standing next to his bed, he grabbed Eddie's bowl of green jello cubes and gulped one down like a shot. "You had fuckin' tubes popping out of your chest, why would I make you keep paying for that flea trap?"

"Because there's nothing here for me, Richie! I might be discharged but there's no way I can get back to New York with 88 sutures in my side!"

"So" He popped another neon cube in. "We can just get another room until you're ready."

"Not to mention—We? You're not going back to Vegas? Why aren't you going back to Vegas?"

"Not right now. I'm pretty sure my agent's fired me by now. And I'm sure that kid from the Chinese food place has been a PR nightmare."

"C'mon. You have to go back. Stop being stupid." He looked at Richie with such sincerity it made him almost want to listen to him.

"I'm not being stupid, you like, almost died, dude"

"That doesn't mean you have to stay" He grabbed Richie's hand.

"Ha. If I had to be here I'd already be gone. I want to stay." Another cube went in, this time he spoke while chewing it obnoxiously, earning an eye-roll from Eddie. "You really don't know me at all, do you Eds?"

He ran his thumb over his knuckles. "Maybe I don't."

"Besides, you don't have life alert, what if your cane rolls away or trip over your loafers and can't get up."

"Oh, fuck you, Richie." He said, letting go of his and smacking him in the arm instead, smiling all the while.

Rich smiled back. "Your mom already beat you to it."

3.

  
Though Eddie was in no shape to be driving himself, he sure as hell didn't want to stay in Derry much longer. After his discharge, he and Richie drove to the next closest town to rent a room. The young brunette man attending the desk at the Bar Harbor Anchor Inn had a cast on his nose and what Eddie recognized as an aspirator poking out of his pocket. He looked far too metropolitan for his surroundings and had a knowing smirk on his face as he checked them in.

"Two queens?"

Eddie flustered at the comment. "Just friends! Thank you"

Richie laughed "We're not quite there yet, but for the room that's fine."

The clerk smiled "I always make that joke when I check in two guys and nobody's ever laughed"

"It's a pretty good one." Richie squinted at the bronze name tag. "Adrian."

He processed Richie's card, prompting some sounds of protest from Eddie, and tossed him both sets of keys. "Enjoy your stay, Sailors"

4.

  
"You know I could've taken care of my own luggage. It has wheels for god's sake!" Eddie said as he strode, slowly and evenly with his cane behind his longer limbed, abled companion.

"You know you can stop complaining, too, right?" He stopped in front of their door, set down his own duffel bag on the floor, and began to unlock it.

The room was almost childlike with with amount of kitschy nautical themed knickknacks around the room, but the mature shade of navy blue on the walls and all the wood details kept it from going too far. Richie walked in first and very unceremoniously dumped their belongings on top of (and not so on top of) the couch next to the door, more focused on looking around the oceanic suite, this once again prompted protest from Eddie, who hobbled in after, shutting the door behind him. After a sufficient look-see around the room, Richie sank face first into the downy pillow top mattress and began kicking off his shoes, this time earning a laugh from Eddie rather than a groan.

"Seven days" He said into the pillow. "Seven days I slept on those stupid fucking waiting room chairs waiting for your ass to get out of there."

"You really didn't need to" Eddie sat down next to him, planting a hand on his shoulder where he began to rub circles. "I would've been fine with just a visit. Really. But thanks none the less. For everything."

Richie tensed up at the touch. A lot had been stirred up for him since he came back to Derry, and the same nervousness about his sexuality that he held in his youth was no exception. It was easy to hide when he didn't have anyone to hide from. Easy to pick up girls at his shows, easy to let them break it off when they realized how distant from himself, let alone them, he really was. Easy to joke it off in his next set and move on to the next one. But Eddie was different. Eddie was real. His hand on his shoulder was real. Realer than anything. Certainly realer than the voice in his head.

Don't touch the other boys, Richie. Don't let them learn your dirty little secret.

He turned over and away.

"Don't mention it."

Eddie balled his hand into a fist, like he was gripping the phantom fabric of Richie's shirt that was under it just moments ago, before tucking his hand onto his lap and getting up.

"You should get some proper sleep then. I'm gonna go for a walk around the building."

"Later, Eds."

"Yeah" Eddie swallowed. "Later."

5.

  
Richie slept for about eight hours. More than enough time for Eddie to take a walk around the building, a walk to the liquor store, do a shot of tequila to wash down his pain killers, nap a little bit himself, call Myra explaining himself, do another shot, then log into Netflix and put on House of Cards.

By the time Richie woke up it was 10pm. He felt good for being well rested, but the ache in his stomach when he saw Eddie sitting up in bed across from him cut the feeling short. Nevertheless, he plastered on a smile as per usual.

"Hey Eds."

Eddie turned away from the TV, still a bit buzzed from his narcotic cocktail from earlier, giggled a bit before wincing and giggling again, clutching his side. "Hey, Trashmouth"

It took a minute of contemplation due to his freshly awakened state but quickly he realized his temporary roommate had been drinking. "Glad to know you didn't let my little coma dampen the fun. Did you save any for me?"

Eddie hiccuped. "'Course I did." He tried to reach over the side of the bed without swinging his legs over, which the sharp twinge in his side from the strained stitches reminded him was a bad idea, bringing him to hiss in pain. Richie jumped to attention, stopping just short of touching his married friend.

"I'll get it, sit down"

"I feel like a fucking" He paused dramatically before hiccuping and groaning. "Invalid" He slurred.

Richie picked the bottle of Patron silver off the ground and sat on the bed next to Eddie, one leg hanging off the side. "No wonder you do. You're mixing tequila and Vicodin."

"It's fine" Another hiccup. "I'm know what I'm doing. I could've been a doctor, y'know. If it wasn't so gross."

Richie took a big swig right from the bottle and chuckled, feeling it mix with, then dissuade the tension in his stomach. "Yeah, I know, Eds."

Eddie made a grabbing hand motion and Richie passed the bottle to him. "I love it when you call me that, y'know"

Richie felt his ears get hot. "Really?"

"Really really. You're the only one who calls me Eds. Not even Myra calls me that." Eddie pushed the bottle back into his hands. "Your turn."

He almost felt ashamed. Had it not been for the warmth of the double shot from earlier snaking through his body, he definitely would've. He was a grown man, but one sentence had him feeling like a kid with a stupid schoolboy crush. It could've made him sick, how pathetic it was.

But it didn't. It was par for the course at this point, he'd just down another drink and try to feel better. Like he did now. Like he did when he got the phone call. Like he always did. Just swallow it down and hope it wouldn't come back up.

He passed the bottle back to Eddie, who just set it down between them, his hand on the neck of the bottle brushing Richie's knee.

"I should've fucking asked I'm an idiot. Do you even like House of Cards?"

Richie brought his other leg closer to the edge of the bed. Eddie didn't notice. "Yeah. That's why I don't watch it."

Eddie tried to bite back what was way too much laughter for a little throwaway line that barely made sense. This made Richie smile. "See? I always said I'm funnier when you're drunk"

Eddie engaged in more trial and failure to contain himself. "Stop, I'm seriously gonna piss myself, just change the channel"

"Eds, this is Netflix"

Having finally calmed down, he gripped his throbbing side with one hand and took hold of the Patron with the other. "Whatever"

After going through three different categories, of Netflix shows with the same over all plot, they stumbled upon Teen Wolf which made both of them laugh, more out of relief than anything.

"Didn't you used to be afraid of werewolves? I feel like you were afraid of the Michael J. Fox werewolf"

"When we were kids, yeah. Right when that shit started happening"

Eddie lifted the bottle in a toast "Good fucking riddance" He took his swig then passed it to Richie.

"Couldn't have said it better myself" Richie downed some and pressed play.

Eddie eventually beckoned the quickly emptying bottle back to himself, his wedding band catching the light of the lamp. Richie passed it back, shaking his head.

"I still cannot believe you're fucking married"

Eddie tilted his head back to get some of the quickly depleting booze in his mouth and spilled a little tequila on his shirt in the process "Fuck" He said, rubbing at it with his hand, before turning to Richie. "Did you say something"

"Just that I cant believe you're actually married"

"Oh, yeah" He looked down at his hand. "Martie."

"She's a lucky fella"

"Beep beep, Richie"

Richie smiled "I mean it. Where'd you find a girl like that anyways, the barnyard"

"No, no" He hiccuped "No, we met at work. She was always really nice to me and I was always really nice to her so, one day I did the nicest thing of all and I married her"

"A romance for the ages" Richie swallowed as dryly as he said it. "Truly"

They silently watched the screen for a until Eddie yawned and leaned his head in to Richie's side. Even through the warm cloud of booze in his head, he still stiffened up at that.

"You okay, Eds?"

"I think I'm gay." He hiccuped. "No, I...I know I am."

Richie's ears got hot once again. "You sure?"

He slowly shifted lower than the half seated against Richie he'd been in and half whispered, half mumbled "Who else thinks a closet is very scary"

Richie's breath caught in his chest a moment. "So you do remember?"

"That part, yeah" He let out another hiccup. "After the ritual. But I definitely knew when I was a kid I just. Forgot. Like everything else like this entire part of me just disappeared"

The part of Richie that'd been nagging at him since Derry finally piped down. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he finally leaned back against the headboard and allowed himself to put his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I thought it was scary, too, Eds"


End file.
